by Marjorie Carlson Davis
Sunday, May 16, 2004
Rated "G" by the Author.
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Published in Voices Along the River, an anthology of nature poems, by Valley Rivers Celebration in cooperation with Connecticut Department of Environmental Protection, Kellogg Environmental Center and Osborne Homestead Museum, 2001
Anywhere you'd like.
Perhaps over by the river
where the cattails and reeds are thick.
I take it you're a nature lover?
Can't wait to get outside
days like these.
I know how it is:
pick up some Kentucky Fried,
a six-pack of beer.
You need to relax, unwind, soak up a little nature,
observe a few wild creatures.
They're amazing, these animals. Adaptable.
I've seen birds' nests made from plastic,
Wonderbread wrappers intertwined with twigs;
a beaver dam of styrofoam and logs.
They use what we leave them.
And after you're gone,
when your children are safe in bed,
the moon illuminates your playground:
a raccoon feeds from your discarded can,
its tongue flashing over the jagged edge.
A turtle emerges from the river; its neck wrapped in your six-pack ring.
A fox chews at a piece of glass,
imbedded in its foot.
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|Reviewed by Ronald Hull
|Well said. I've found cans well off the beaten path. We've spoiled the natural water sources, so we carry heavy expensive bottled water so that we can throw the light, empty bottles to our wildlife for reuse.|
|Reviewed by Mr. Ed
|Bravo for this write, Marjorie.
It truly sickens how mankind disregards the consequences of the trash he leaves behind. Have seen far too much carnage, as you obviously have, of our lovely nonhuman neighbors.